


Sweet Serial Killer

by Spadesinspades



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Blow Jobs, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:03:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spadesinspades/pseuds/Spadesinspades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim comes to check up on Sebastian while he's working a job in Paris.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Serial Killer

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Zhelly (skinofstripes | zhellyzee) for her birthday. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Used the song 'Serial Killer' by Lana Del Rey for inspiration.

_Wish I may, wish I might / Find my one true love tonight_

Sebastian stands at the edge of the rooftop pool and flips a silver coin into it with his thumb. It splashes into the under-lit teal water and sends ripples into the deep red stain that is spreading across the surface. He closes his eyes and makes a wish, something befitting of a solitary assassin working a job in the most romantic city in the world.

(More targets.)

His mark, Edwardo Condini, the head of a powerful Italian crime family, is now floating face down in the water. He had fled to Paris when he learned that Sebastian had been hunting him across Europe. 

Seb takes a long drag on his cigarette before tossing it over the side of the building. 

“Didn’t quite work out for you, yeah?” he says out loud to no one in particular. "All that running and you still end up in my cross hairs.”

He takes a moment to admire his handiwork - a clear through-and-through - the sign of a practiced hand. It was a hell of a shot from the adjacent rooftop because the wind had been picking up steadily throughout the day. He was rather proud of himself, all told. 

He unholsters his sidearm and screws on a suppressor, then fires the second bullet into the body. A double tap to signify a professional hit. It will keep the authorities busy while he makes his way out of the country under the guise of being just another tourist on holiday.

The scene is almost poetic; the light from the pool becoming ever more obscured by thick viscous blood, stars shimmering above his head in the open air, the lights of the city spread out beneath him. He looks up and tries to locate the North Star.

“If I knew how much of my money was spent paying you to just stand around, I think I’d reconsider your fee.”

Sebastian freezes at the sound of the voice, his body going involuntarily rigid. 

_Do you think that he could be you?_

“Boss. Wasn’t expecting you.”

“Good.”

Sebastian turns slowly and sees Jim standing near the edge of the roof, leaning back against the decorative stone railing that runs along the perimeter of the building. He is dressed in an impeccable grey suit with a light yellow tie. The fabric lays against his body like a whisper and he’s all all angles in the dim light. Sebastian swallows hard and tries to chase the… rigidity… away by sheer power of will.

“Something the matter?” he asks. He unscrews and pockets the suppressor then re-holsters his gun. He’s taking deep breaths, trying to steady himself. Jim watches in silence. Seb feels as though he’s being examined through a microscope. He bends down to pick up the shell casing and when he stands back up, Jim is no longer standing against the railing.

“The fuck-” Sebastian starts as he looks in all directions. When he turns completely around, back to the pool, Jim is suddenly only inches away. Seb steps back out of instinct and nearly loses his balance. Jim’s hands are on him in the next second, holding him steady.

“Not so much with the close quarters, I take it?”

“I guess I’m just used to a little more distance,” Sebastian replies, licking his lips. ”Not that I’m finding this exactly objectionable.”

Jim smirks and Seb sees a flash of white teeth. ”How long do you have?” he asks.

Sebastian considers the timeline. Condini had paid off the hotel staff so he could have the rooftop to himself and a few prostitutes, who Seb had skillfully re-routed. No one would be looking for him for a few hours at least.

“An hour or two,” he finally replies. ”Do you have another assignment for me?”

Jim releases his hold on Sebastian and they both sway slightly from the broken contact. Jim takes a half step backwards, creating space. ”I guess that depends on what other marketable skills you might have.” He walks over to the empty bar and pulls out a stool. He perches himself on it and leans on the bar top.

”Jack of all trades,” Seb responds with open palms. ”Name it.”

“Take off your jacket.”

_So I murder love in the night / Watching them fall one by one they fight_

Sebastian’s heart beats in double time as he pulls off his jacket and lets it fall in a heap at his feet. He starts to pull off his leather gloves as well, but Jim objects.

“No, leave those on. Your shirt next.”

Seb crosses his arms and takes hold of the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. He wears a black ribbed tank underneath, but the scars on his chest and arms are now clearly visible. He feels exposed.

Jim shifts in his seat and unbuttons his jacket. Sebastian thinks he can make out a certain stiffness under the layers of raw silk and cotton, but it’s hard to tell for sure in the low light.

“Boots.”

Sebastian has to shake himself out of his fixed gaze. He crouches down to loosen the laces on his boots and then toes them off. He stands straight and is rewarded with the sight of Jim unbuttoning his trousers. Seb doesn’t wait for the next instruction.

_Do you think you’ll love me too, ooh, ooh?_

He walks forward slowly, carefully, eyes fixed on Jim’s expression. He runs one hand down the front of his body, over abdomen, pelvis, cock. He rubs himself through rough denim, then watches as Jim mirrors his action, stroking his own erection through his suit. Jim’s eyelids stutter closed and his mouth opens slightly. Sebastian clenches his jaw and feels himself grow harder, hungrier. He takes another few steps forward and Jim doesn’t make any indication that he should halt. Instead, he’s slipped his hand inside his pants and is pumping slowly.

Sebastian licks his lips. Emboldened, he asks: ”Boss, why use a hand gun when you’ve got a semi-automatic?”

_Baby, I’m a sociopath / Sweet serial killer / On the warpath_

Sebastian is on his knees, leather-gloved hands working at Jim’s cock. He flattens his tongue against the frenulum and licks in broad stokes. Jim tenses and he switches to teasing flicks over the glans. Jim fists a hand in his hair and _pulls_ , indicating displeasure at his frustration. Sebastian grins despite the pain, but understands the severity of the sentiment. He slides his lips over the head of Jim’s cock and takes his entire length in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks with steady suction. He swallows with his boss still in his mouth and the pressure from the reflex pushes Jim over the edge. Seb swallows again.

Jim finally pushes him away by his shoulders and tucks himself back into his trousers. He straightens his clothing as Sebastian wipes his mouth and gets back to his feet.

“Well?” he asks.

Jim is silent for a moment. He starts to walk towards the roof access door. Before he leaves, he turns to look at Seb over one shoulder. ”I may have to start tipping you.”

Seb laughs quietly and Jim disappears down the stairs.

_Cause I love you just a little too much…_


End file.
